


And We Danced

by novemberhush



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Banter, Dancing, F/F, F/M, John just doesn’t realize it’s mutual, M/M, Mary who?, Mutual Pining, No actual resolution to the case, POV John Watson, Pining John Watson, Pre-Slash, This is all about the Johnlock feels, undercover for a case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28661013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novemberhush/pseuds/novemberhush
Summary: A series of murders linked to a dance class sees John and Sherlock going undercover to work on their moves and unmask the killer.
Relationships: Minor Molly Hooper/Greg Lestrade - Relationship, Minor Sally Donovan/Janine (Sherlock) - Relationship, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	And We Danced

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So it’s been a while for me writing in this fandom, but I was going through my WIPs and found this languishing there. It was originally going to be part of a longer story, but I felt with a little brush up that it could work as a stand-alone scene. So, I hope you enjoy. :-)

“Jesus, Sherlock! Bit of warning next time, eh?” John hissed as Sherlock dipped him suddenly. A smug grin was his only reply before he was spun out and then reeled back in again. “All right, Nureyev, that’s enough! Bloody show-off. We’re supposed to be beginners, remember, not Fred and Ginger! Now, tell me again what we're doing here.” 

“It’s called dancing, John. I would have thought that would have been an elementary deduction, even for you.”

“Yes, thank you for that, you pompous git. Let me rephrase, tell me again _why_ we're dancing.”

“I'm sorry, did you miss the part where Lestrade asked for our, and by ‘our’ I mean ‘my’, help in solving the murders of three people connected to this dance class? I could have sworn you were standing right there when he told us the details of the case. My mistake, obviously.”

“Right, okay, we'll try this again, since you insist on being a condescending dick about everything. I _know_ we're dancing, I _know_ we're here to work a case. What I _don't_ know is why we're dancing _with each other_ when we could both be dancing with women.”

Sherlock fixed him with an intense gaze. “Don’t you, John?” he intoned, voice matching his eyes in intensity.

John swallowed. “Well, I mean, it's just we’re supposed to be undercover and we’ve got three women here to help us with the investigation and yet we’re dancing with none of them. Two men dancing together, even in this day and age, still draws more attention than a man and a woman would.”

“True,” Sherlock conceded, “but given that at least two of our three victims were openly homosexual, and the fact I suspect the third was in the closet, this seemed like the best course of action to draw out the murderer.”

“Oh. Right. I see. Yes, that makes sense,” John responded, wondering why he was a little disappointed that the answer hadn't been that Sherlock had simply wanted to dance with him. 

“Besides,” Sherlock went on, breaking in on John's thoughts, “not even I would have the heart to partner up with Molly and deprive Gavin-“ 

“Greg,” John interrupted.

“And deprive Greg…are you sure that’s his name? Doesn’t sound right to me. Whatever, doesn’t matter. As I was saying, not even I would deprive _Lestrade_ of the pleasure of dancing with Molly. He’s so far gone for her it would be like kicking a puppy and you know I could never harm a dog, John.”

“So you noticed that then?” John grinned.

“What?” 

“The fact that Greg’s mad about her.” 

“Please. I don't pretend to know much about romance, or, well, anything about it actually, it’s not really my area, but you'd have to be pretty dense _not_ to have noticed,” Sherlock scoffed.

“They look like they're having a good time, anyway,” John replied, nodding his head in the direction of a smiling, smitten Lestrade twirling a laughing, luminous Molly around the room. His whole face softened as he unconsciously laid his head on Sherlock's shoulder, still watching the other, seemingly happy, couple dancing. “They look right together,” John said softly. 

Sherlock snorted, breaking the mood somewhat, and John suddenly became aware of where his head was resting and jerked it back again quickly. For a split second he could've sworn he saw something like disappointment on Sherlock's face, but then the mask of condescension and indifference was back in place and the look was gone as fast as it had appeared. _If it was ever really there to begin with_ , John thought.

“I'm sorry, did I offend your sociopathic tendencies? Affront you with sentiment? Pique your disdain for matters of the heart?”

“What? No. No, no. I wasn't laughing at you or your comment, highly romanticised as it was, or even at love's young dream over there. Who, by the way, do, I concede, make an aesthetically pleasing and appealingly likeable pair. I was laughing at our other helpmates in this little endeavour,” Sherlock explained, indicating with a quick little tilt of his chin the direction he had been looking, somewhere just over John's right shoulder. John glanced over and couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his own lips at the sight of a dazzling Janine, who’d somehow managed to talk (or possibly blackmail) Sherlock into letting her come with them tonight, attempting to teach a rather enamoured-looking Detective Sergeant Sally Donovan the finer points of the tango. _Well, it does take two_ , John thought, noting the heated looks the women were exchanging and suspecting neither of them would be going home alone tonight.

“Yeah, fair enough,” he said, turning back to Sherlock with a shake of his head before something clicked with him. 

“Hey, wait a minute… did you just _agree_ with me that Molly and Lestrade make a cute couple?”

Sherlock shot him a withering look, but any effect it might have had on him was undercut by both Sherlock's embarrassed blush and John's years of being on the receiving end of enough of those looks to have become virtually immune to them. 

“There's hope for you yet, Sherlock Holmes,” he beamed, receiving a rather spectacular eye roll, even for Sherlock, in return, and choosing not to look too closely at why that statement filled his own heart with something that felt suspiciously like hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. If you feel like sharing your thoughts on the story please feel free to do so, either here in the comments section or over on tumblr. Stay safe. xxx


End file.
